Fade Away

Start Twenty five years of scars. Each one had a fading memory and lingering pain. The man couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in a bed, or anything more than a pile rubble. Looking out across the near barren landscape he took in the scents from around him. Sweat, blood, and the cloying odor of mutation. Setting off on the old march, he listened to the crunch of his boots ring out on the wind. Other than that, only the occasional and distant howl from some creature broke the silence. It had been following him for days.

Hours later as the sun began its decent, he came upon the edge of a blown out town. The bombs had done their work admirably, if that was something you could admire. Picking his way through dust caked destruction, he found what would be his temporary hovel. Opening his torn and useless pack he saw he was nearly out of cook-wood. He'd have to gather some tomorrow if he lasted the night.

Making his paltry fire he pried open a can without a label, and set it in the fire. While the food cooked his thoughts wondered back to memories gone, and the creature that stalked him. He hadn't seen it, not well anyways. What bothered him was the memory it itched. A glint of gold light the few times his eye caught it. Could it be light reflecting from the creatures own eye? Letting that go he faded away to thoughts of his wife. She was beautiful. Sickness from the radiation took it from her. To this day he didn't know why it hadn't killed him. She wore a golden locket with a picture of them each hidden inside, close to her heart. When she died he had buried her with it. He remembered her soft smile in the sun, framed above that glowing locket.

Using a pair of thin sticks he took his meal off the fire and stabbed fleshy lumps out of the can. It tasted terrible, but it was better than nothing. He sat there chewing when a sound came to him. A crunch of gravel and dust. Slight but it was there. Rising swiftly his bones ached in protest, he turned looking through the crumbling doorway to see a shadow. He drew his pistol aiming dead center at this threat,

"Who be you?"

The words fell from his lips, dry and raspy. He hadn't spoken in many a year. In response the figure took a step through the darkness, he could see a golden locket shining in the fire light. He flinched as the old memory came back.

"Alice?"

His voice whispered out as he lowered the gun. The figure took another step to reveal the face of his beloved, rotted and hollow. Still beautiful she was.

Another step she took, a groaning sound echoing from her throat. Hungry? Bending down he picked up the can and held it out to her. One more step and the smell was around him, but he found he didn't care. Twenty five years had worn away many cares. Her hand reached out touching the can, and with a shriek she slammed into him. The sound of tearing and gasps echoed through the ruin. He didn't have the energy to make a sound anymore. As the light left his eyes he focused on the one thing he could see in the encroaching dark. The golden locket hanging about his face, bobbing back and forth, as the light faded away.